“No… no. She were right pleased with herself. She’d worked it out… that’s it, she said she’dsolvedit… the mule droppings, that is. And then she clamped a hand over her mouth, as if she’d said too much, and laughed. One of those silly little laughs, like a girl. I thought then she weren’t right in the head, and I still think it, if you want to know the truth. Laudanum and mule droppings indeed! How ridiculous!”
And that was as much as Michael could get from them. It was not much, not much at all. If only Miss Peach had been less secretive! If she had confided in anyone, he would have discovered where she had gone and could have gone after her, and then whatever accident had befallen her could perhaps have been prevented. It was frustrating, but then everything about the chaplain’s murder was frustrating. None of it made any sense to him. It was like a wooden puzzle which was meant to slot together, but some of the pieces were missing so nothing fitted.
They walked back to the inn in silence, both aware that this was the end of the search for Miss Peach. They had met a solid wall and could proceed no further.
The innkeeper met them at the door as they arrived. “Beg pardon, sir, madam, but there’s a gen’leman awaitin’ for you in the parlour.”
“I will see him,” Michael said.
“No, sir, he said it were the lady he wan’ed to see. Asked for Mrs Edger’on by name.”
“Very well. Send up some wine, will you, and whatever else you have.”
“Already done, sir.”
“Thank you. How very mysterious!” Michael said as they climbed the stairs to their private parlour, rather amused. “I will come with you, though, unless this is an assignation with a lover, in which case I shall tactfully disappear.”
“Oh, surely not! I should expect you to challenge him to a duel, at the very least. Pistols at dawn, my dear. Nothing less will do.”
“No, no!Rapiersat dawn. Much more the thing. Pistols are so unreliable.”
They were both laughing as Michael opened the door and ushered Luce inside.
Mr Eustace Atherton turned towards them and they knew at once from his face that he brought bad news.
“Oh, no!” Luce cried. “Not Peachy!”
“I cannot be certain, for I did not know her well enough to be sure, but… I believe so. There is… a body. In a field some two miles or so from here. It matches the description of your companion. Mrs Edgerton, I am so very, very sorry.”
Luce gave a little sob, one hand covering her mouth. “What happened? Did she suffer, do you think? Was it some kind of accident?”
Atherton’s expression hardened. “I cannot be sure… Captain Edgerton will confirm it, but I suspect she was murdered… strangled. Her throat is badly bruised.”
“Oh, poor Peachy!” Luce said. “Do you want me to come and identify her? Oh… was it some time ago? Is she… is she…?”
“No, no! It was quite recent, I believe. The body is not… disfigured. Even so, I believe your husband is the best person to look at her remains.”
“How did you come to find her?” Michael said. “In a field, you said?”
“Yes. I have been on the lookout for some sign of her for some weeks now, ever since you mentioned that she was missing. Not constantly, but whenever I had a few hours free. I know a great many people, so I thought to ask around in case anyone had seen her. An elderly lady on her own… one would imagine someone would have seen her, but no one had. So then I thought to examine some of the remote barns or sheds, places where someone who does not wish to be found might hide.” He pulled a folded paper from a pocket and unfolded it onto the table to reveal a map, with several points circled. “These are the likely places I identified, all within walking distance of Pickering, for I discovered early that she had not been seen on any of the public coaches.”
“You have been impressively thorough,” Michael said with genuine admiration. “I have covered some of this ground, but mostly I just asked at inns and the like. I never thought to check the barns.”
“She must have been sleeping somewhere,” Atherton said, “and since it was clear she wanted to remain out of sight, it seemed sensible to look in such places where she might have taken shelter. But I had no luck until today. This barn here… I discovered blankets, supplies of food, a bag of clothing. No sign of the lady, so I started looking in the nearby fields, and caught sight of what looked at first like a bundle of clothing under a hedge. It is quite near Tonkins Farm, so I have left a couple of Tonkins’ sons to guard the spot. They will not touch anything. I know you will want to examine the body and its surroundings carefully.”
“You have done an excellent job, sir,” Michael said. “If ever you want to take up a career, I should be delighted to take you in as a fellow investigator. Luce, will you mind if I leave you here for a while? You might start composing a letter to Miss Peach’s sister in Harrogate.”
Tears trickling unheeded down her cheeks, Luce shook her head. “No. I shall come with you. I want to see… where she met her end.”
They found the place to be just as Atherton had described it, the body in its old-fashioned round gown and ancient wool cloak half concealed by the hedge, with two sturdy farmers standing a respectful distance away, and a little cluster of children watching from the gate nearest to the farm. The smoke from the farmhouse chimneys could be clearly seen above a small clump of trees. The barn was visible on the far side of the field.
It took Michael only a moment to confirm that it was indeed Miss Peach, and that she had been strangled.
“Why would anyone kill her?” Luce said sadly. “Such a harmless lady, one would think.”
“A robbery, perhaps?” Atherton said. “She carries no reticule. Did she wear any jewellery?”
“No jewellery, and she was old-fashioned in her ways, so she still had pockets under her skirts,” Luce said.
